Chess Room
The chess room was discovered by Aster and Hadrian in Chapter 4. It opened to the public on 10/1/241. Description :: The quiet creak of the floorboards alerted them to the age of the wood as one gave way underfoot. The sound of squeaking as the shadows of mice cast on the walls from the light behind them, clouds of dust flew up from the shattered ground and momentarily veiled their sight. The filth settled around them as their eyes focused on the walls, wallpaper ripped from their placement and flakes of paint scattered across the floor. Indentations stained with the burgundy hues of dried blood, nails embedded in the crevices carved into the stone. Tables overturned and broken wooden furniture, the legs of a chair are seen lying by a corner, scuff marks left from splintered wood scraping away at the walls that confined them remained. Various papers cover the floor, torn up and whole while glass shards from a fallen painting frame lie upon the ground. Hazy and opaque from years of dust making home upon it. The skeleton of a person with their hands gripped around a candelabrum lodged into the floorboards, its mandible was ajar as if perpetually fixed in a state of screaming as you could picture their spirit desperately attempt to dig away at the ground, a pathetic venture at procuring escape. :: Red paint spread across the walls in a repetitive message, “She has abandoned us.” It is written across the walls like a mantra, covering every inch of the room, some even claimed the edges of the ceiling. The further they walked inside, surveying the room. The crack of a bone underfoot, rodent and human teeth marks mar its ashen surface. It presented itself alongside the various cartilage of others. If you counted them all, it’d make the entire form of 4 other previous students. Their uniforms are smeared in aged blood, gathered in a pile with words scrawled across the fabric. Frayed ends from the sleeves and pants leg being ripped apart to be used as alternatives to paper. Most of the calligraphy was illegible besides a small handheld notebook sticking out of a jacket pocket. Robbed from the corpses as the entries are flipped through. Turning to the last recorded statement in the book. :: ” Water, I need water. I’ve licked at the blood splatters on the walls devoured the flesh of my friends, chewed on their bones for any semblance of liquid. and I despise myself for it, with no hydration left in my body and numbness set in my heart. I cannot even spare the effort to cry anymore. My head is pounding, my body is sore, my hands scream for me to stop writing but I can’t. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane while I’m alone in this room. Surrounded by bones. I’m so tired but I cannot fall asleep when every time they close I hear their voice and see their faces then I pry them back open, warding off their ghosts. How could he do this to us? Archbishop Jela, the root of our problems words are scratched out or is it me for taking them down with me on this path? Jela was like my father, I selfishly craved his approval. To be told I did well or congratulated on my studies, He was someone blinding to me. He was everything I wanted to be yet everything I couldn’t. I wanted to be better than him at the same time, surpass him but carry on his legacy so I scoured the school and the places we visited on our missions for answers to questions he couldn’t even begin to explain.” You turn the page. :: Noticeable dried teardrops and splotches of blood and ink blemish the paper, “I thought I couldn’t bear to cry anymore. I was wrong. I lack the strength to even scream anymore, they never heard our cries anyway. Dahlia wailed for days. Mallory, he kept trying to tear down the walls while Brone begged him to stop. I just… I kept writing on the walls, I wanted us to be remembered. If we’d die here then I wanted our words to be heard. She abandoned us, The Goddess left us all to wither, to rot and burn like a despondent mother who walked out on her greatest disappointments, her children. So what was the use in praying? Why did we kneel and ask for forgiveness from a dying God? These questions of mine are what got us in here, trapped in a stone box. Starving and thirsty until Brone was devoured until Mallory grew sick until Dahlia cried every last tear she had died from dehydration. I hate God but I hate the church and the man who lead me to believe in her more. The Goddess is dead. There’s nothing left to pray to.” :: The more you look at the room, the more details you see. Maps of Horae and its olden counterpart Kairos. Scribbled drawings and notes by the names of towns and passes. Drawn on them are routes through the woods, mountains, labeled with titles and discoveries. Blunt wooden training weapons off to the side, a chest with armor made of leather and string. Empty wrapping of rations strewn about and near a trashcan, storybooks, and survival guides on a toppled bookshelf along with sketchbooks. Torn up cushions on the floor with shoeprints marked on the floor from this group’s time sitting and getting up from them. It was someplace happy once. The self-drawn portraits of the group falling off the walls told that. Their smiles are wide in them, the notes of love towards their friends are evident in their affection. This was a haven for these kids once. It eventually turned into hell Navigation Category:Concordia Category:Locations